


Have You Any Room?

by chelsapeek



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, credence gets his redemption, credence is messed up after the subway incident and modesty is his rock, modesty becomes her own person, modesty likes when credence sings so he sings her hymns, very healing, very heartwarming and newt is the best, wholesome fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-19 23:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9466235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelsapeek/pseuds/chelsapeek
Summary: Credence wakes up soon after he's almost killed. He needs to find Modesty, the only person who has ever loved him unconditionally. When Credence finds her, Newt takes them both in and they build the family that Credence and Modesty always wanted. Each chapter is named after a hymn.





	1. Come Closer To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I love the relationship between Credence and Modesty so this is what comes of it! There will definitely be more of this written soon.

When Credence opened his eyes, he was lying in an alleyway. He couldn't feel his hands, yet he grasped wildly to feel if all his limbs were there. Legs, feet, eyes, nose, mouth, ears. His whole body ached, especially his chest. Above his head, the sky rumbled and groaned. It was going to downpour. His hands shook as he felt the holes torn in his clothes. He tried to think of where he could go, if anyone would help him. He thought of his mother, lying dead in their church, and his older sister, crushed in the rubble. He thought of Modesty, crying in her childhood home at the mention of Credence's name.

 

_Modesty_

The only person Credence knew who loved him unconditionally, who didn't think he was a freak, left alone to die in a crumbling brick building. Credence had to find her. He staggered to his feet, stumbling into the street. He soon realized that he stood only a few hundred feet away from the subway that they had tried to kill him in. He looked around wildly, blood running from his nose sluggishly. _Credence!_ He heard it, it was Newt, the man coming up from the subway and yelling towards him. Before Credence knew what he was doing, Credence was running away. His body ached and begged him to stop, but he was terrified. He couldn't remember the fine details, he couldn't think clearly at all. All he could feel was pain, and all he could think of was his baby sister, who had tried to take their mother's beating for him, who would hold his hand and hug him. He had to find her.

 

He dashed through the back alleys, trying to find his way to Modesty's childhood home, where he hoped she would still be. He turned corners and climbed up over cement walls. He felt superhuman, his body was doing things he never thought that he could do. He ran on autopilot, his mind taking him quickly through the backstreets. He had known them so well with all of the encounters between him and Mr. Graves. He thought of when Mr. Graves slapped him, when Graves told him he was unteachable. Credence's blood boiled. _I thought you were different._

 

His nose still bled and his lungs burned as he sprinted up the street to where he hoped Modesty would be. The house was in shambles, and his face felt wet. His nails black, caked in dirt, rose to touch his own cheek. He was sobbing. He scrambled up the fallen steps just as it began to rain, and shoved the door down with the shoulder that hurt less. "Modesty," He screamed, and he sobbed. The stairs weren't safe by any means, and there was dust and rubble covering every surface. "Modesty," He called again, climbing the uneven stairs. One gave out, and he managed to catch himself. Pulling himself back up, his hip caught a nail, ripping a shallow gash on his left side. He didn't feel it.

 

When he got to the top of the stairs, he saw that the house was missing most of its roof. "Modesty," He called, his ears ringing, still sobbing. He fell to the unsteady floor, crumpled in on himself.

 

"Credence?" He heard it, it was soft. Credence thought of what it must have looked like to Modesty, his whole body scattering into airborne black ink. Modesty, so young, must have been so scared. He followed the sound of her voice, climbing over the broken walls that he had destroyed in front of Mr. Graves. She was under the desk, still, curled up and crying.

 

Credence was made of more than nightmares. Bleeding, broken, dirty, crying. He fell to his knees in front of her and held his arms out. There was no hesitation, she fell into them. He held her closely, his blackened hand caressing her blonde, angelic hair. Maybe he should have stopped crying, and told her everything would be alright. He didn't. Sitting down so he could stretch out his bruised and tired legs, he cradled Modesty's head against his sore collarbones. Modesty was crying too, and she bled from a cut on the right side of her forehead. Credence ripped off his tie to wipe the blood off her temple.

 

"I thought you were _dead_." She kept telling him, her small fragile hands gripping onto his torn black waistcoat. They stayed like that for hours, and it was not soon that they were able to stop crying, but eventually they did. All Credence could think was, _Mom is dead. Chastity is dead. Where are we going to live?_

 

Modesty was half asleep on his chest. Adrenaline gone, Credence realized how much pain he was in. His whole body was on fire, but he still held Modesty close. "Will you sing to me, Credence?" She asked him. Rain still poured and thundered.

 

When Modesty would have nightmares, Credence sang hymns for her. Hymns were all he knew, as they were not allowed to listen to the radio. They would only sing during Christmas, but Credence knew many of them by heart. When he was younger, Mary Lou had forced him to memorize hymns and full bible verses, to repeat when she had told him he needed to repent.

 

 _"When I get weary with toils of the day,"_ Credence sang, voice barely above a whisper. _"Off in the secret I kneel and pray. There I can hear my Lord sweetly say, 'Come closer, my child, to me.'_

  
_When all around in this cold, dark land_  
_Nothing encourages me to stand,_  
_Jesus says, holding me by the hand,_  
_'Come closer, my child, to me._

  
_When in afflictions I suffer long,_  
_Jesus comes bringing this lovely song:_  
_'Trust in my grace, and you shall be strong,_  
_'Come closer, my child, to me.'_

  
_When I am meeting with trials severe,_  
_When I am parting with loved ones here,_  
_Looking to Jesus, his voice I can hear:_  
_'Come closer, my child, to me.'"_

Credence was tired, so tired. The room they were in was cold, Credence could hear the rain and wind outside, but they were both dry. Modesty was asleep soundly, completely limp in his arms. For a moment he imagined that is what she would've looked if he had killed her. Tears burned his eyes. How lucky they were that Modesty wasn't crushed along with the rubble, both in their church and at her childhood home. Credence closed his eyes and laid his head back against the desk Modesty had been hiding under. He fell asleep.

 

Credence woke not much later to the sound of debris moving and people talking. He immediately was put on edge, _Who is there? It could be Graves_. Credence didn't know what had become of Mr. Graves after the other wizards tried to kill him. Would Graves want revenge? To come back and take Credence, kill Modesty now that he knew that Credence was the Obscural? Credence picked Modesty up, and she began to awake. "Credence, what is happening?" He sat her on the desk and stood in front of her, using himself as a human shield. He felt his Obscural underneath his skin, ready to rip out and kill Graves the moment that he would step foot in front of them.

 

"Who's there?" Credence's voice shook. The voices came closer, up the stairs, until he could see what he thought were flashlights. Two figures came into view. It was the wizards from the subway who tried to help him, their wands lit up to show them the way.

 

Tina and Newt slowly approached them. "Credence," Tina spoke softly, just like how she did in his dreams. Credence dreamed of her often. In those dreams, she would use her wand to make his mother go away. She would hold him and tell him that he was safe. "We're here to help you. Are you okay?" Her voice was non judgmental, non accusing. He remembered hearing her when he was smothered in black, reaching, searching. She was genuinely worried.

 

"My sister," Credence croaked, stepping aside. "She needs help. Food, water, and bandages. Please."

 

Tina and Newt approached them cautiously. Credence picked Modesty up into his shaking arms, and he flinched when Tina gently held his bicep. Soon, they were no longer in the abandoned home. Tina had apparated them across town, into her own apartment.

 

It was bright and warm. Credence's bones ached, and he was surrounded by what he thought was the most delicious smelling food cooking. There was a blonde woman in the kitchen, and soon he found that Modesty was the one comforting him now.

 

"It's okay." Modesty told him, as the blonde woman, Queenie was her name, went to take Modesty into the bedroom to give her new clothes. "I'll be right back." So sure of herself like always, so strong. Strong enough for the both of them, just like always. Credence thought, _I'm a fool, she never was weak._

 

Credence sat at Tina's kitchen table, and Newt sat with him. "How are you feeling?" Newt asked, and Credence didn't know how to answer. His whole body was sore, and he could feel that his side was still bleeding.

 

"I'm fine." He told Newt, who looked at him disbelievingly.

 

"Can I check you over? Credence, you're safe here. If you need help, I can heal you." He told him. There was a comfort that Newt had, unlike Tina's, but just as welcoming. Credence, after hesitating a moment, nodded and stood. Newt quickly found the gash on his side, and carefully mended the wound. Soon Newt had taken him into his suitcase and given him some of his own clothing, a pair of brown trousers that laid loose on Credence's thin hips, and a thick, mustard yellow sweater that hung from Credence's shoulders like a wet blanket. If Newt realized how underfed Credence was, how shallow his cheekbones were, or how paper thin his skin was, he did not mention it. The only clothing item that had survived the night, without ruin, were Credence's shoes.

 

Credence stared in amazement at the scene around himself, wondering what else could be possible for him if magic could make an entire world inside a suitcase. "If you and Modesty want to, you can stay here with me." Newt told him softly, watching as Credence took in the world around him. "Of course you don't have to, if you don't want to."

 

"You'd let us stay here?" Credence whispered, feeling the Obscural twist around in his chest. They had nowhere else to go, their home destroyed and family dead. _All because of me_ , Credence thought, his chest suddenly hollow.

 

"Of course, Credence. It's completely up to you." Newt answered, walking up to him slowly. He had taken off his coat a while ago, and stood before Credence in black trousers, a white shirt and tan vest. Credence took another long look at the scene around him and nodded slowly.

               

"Please."


	2. I Am Hiding, Safely Hiding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modesty and Credence adapt to a new life where they can do whatever they please and not have to worry about being punished. Newt is loving and everything they've needed, but Credence still has some of his own issues. Credence gets his wand. A very healing chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments, it really gives me the inspiration to write more!! I love imagining little Modesty in like, tan trousers and a white shirt with her brown suspenders, all cute and paper boy-esque with her hair down, doing magic, helping the creatures and feeling free. Or, tending to the animals with no shoes on, looking like the cutest little garden girl ever with Credence at her side. Idk, just my random imagines. Enjoy the chapter :)

 

Modesty took to Newt's animals as if she was born to care for them. Credence was learning ever so slowly what Modesty picked up on in moments. Newt loved her, the witty remarks and thoughtful gestures Modesty did as a second nature made Newt unbelievably happy. With her hair forever out of its tight braids, donning pants and a blouse instead of the Sunday dresses Mary Lou forced her to wear, Modesty blossomed.

 

Credence still struggled. Newt, after taking them all to England, had gotten Credence suspenders that were charmed to not unclasp when one's working. _Better than belts, yes?_ Newt had said, and Credence didn't look at Modesty to see what she thought. He had known what she thought ever since she used her magic to rip his old belt out of their mother's hands. It was liberating, the both of them no longer estranged by tight, awkward, uncomfortable dress clothes. Modesty got suspenders, too, and Credence watched her open up like she never had before. Running around Newt's lands inside his suitcase, she tended to the animals; climbing up and down ladders to feed the Demiguise, crawling through dirt and brush to tend to the Occamys. She was home.

 

Yet, Credence did not know when the suitcase would feel like home for him. It was not to do with Newt, as Newt did everything and more for both Credence and Modesty, but it was Credence's unrelenting psyche that made him feel like a stranger everywhere he went. The only thing that reminded him of home was Modesty, and how they would sing and tell stories to each other. Every now and again, Credence would hear Modesty singing to the Occamys as they preened their young. The Occamys hated anyone that came near them, but they crawled all over Modesty whenever she brought them food. She would sing a refuge hymn, one that Credence never learned, but one that Modesty would sing to him when Mary Lou had beaten him before bed.

 

 _Safely hiding, should I fear,_  
_When the Lord is near?_  
_I am hiding, safely hiding_  
_When the storm clouds fly,_  
_I am hiding in His presence,_  
_'Neath His watchful eye_

 

Laying on his stomach in his old room, back burning and bleeding, Modesty would kneel beside him and hold his hand. She never sang for him when he had nightmares, because he never told her when he had them. At eight years old, Modesty had been the only person not only to show Credence comfort, but also unconditional love and protection.

 

 _Oh, I am hiding, hiding_  
_I am so safely hiding_  
_Hiding till the billows pass me by;_  
_I am hiding, hiding_  
_Oh, sweet safely hiding,_  
_Hiding when the tempests sweep the sky._

 

Yet their new clothes did not mean that they weren't the same children that Mary Lou had conditioned. Newt, so soft and forgiving, would hold Credence when he slept. He never once questioned or awoke when Credence got up in the middle of the night to wander around the lands. When Newt had told Credence they could share his bed, Credence agreed before he thought of what he'd have to conceal when laying in the same bed as Newt. Nightmares came every time he closed his eyes, images of the shock on Mary Lou's face as his Obscural tore their home apart and killed her. Chastity, the scream she let out as the crumbling house crushed her to death. He still felt the same pull under his skin when he woke, the same pull that came when his mother tried to beat Modesty and when Graves had hit him.

 

_Safely hiding, I am sure_  
_All is now secure,_  
_Though the tide should overflow me_  
_I am not afraid,_  
_I am trusting in His keeping_  
_In the cleft He made_

_Safely hiding in His grace,_  
_What a resting place!_  
_I am in the Rock of Ages-_  
_Should my courage fail?_  
_There is not a dark foreboding_  
_In the fiercest gale._

 

Sometimes, Credence would find himself crying. He wouldn't be able to remember why he had started, but he would be sitting, reading through spell books or Newt's notes of his various animals, and he'd watch as his vision blurred and tears fell onto the paper below them. Newt was patient, and never pushed when Credence didn't answer his worried, _Credence, are you alright? Why are you crying?_ It was a month when Credence realized the tightness in his chest was because he wanted to kiss Newt, and so one night, he did.

 

Modesty was long asleep, as even though they were free from Mary Lou, Credence still tucked her in at nine-thirty each night, a very liberal time considering Mary Lou's strict seven o-clock bedtime curfew. He and Newt sat around a small fire that Newt had started inside his metal fireplace, a medium-sized, rickety thing that warmed the small office area of the suitcase.

 

"Credence, can I ask you a question?" Newt said gently, leaning back on his hands, feet sticking out towards the flames.

  
"Of course." Credence replied. They were so close, and Newt was only in breeches and an undershirt. Credence was in the same, but he still wore his enchanted suspenders. He always waited to take them off until he was getting into bed.

 

"I was thinking, after my book is published, we could spend a while in New York with Tina and Queenie. Would that be alright with you?" Credence's mouth went dry. The thought of going back to New York made his stomach drop.

 

"I," Credence fumbled, "I don't know."

 

"It's okay if you don't right now, Merlin knows my book won't be done for quite a bit, I just wanted to know if you were comfortable with it. We have time." Newt told him, reaching over to take Credence's hand. Newt's palm was hard and calloused, but so were Credence's.

 

"Thank you." Credence whispered, thinking of every time Newt had let him call the shots, make decisions that Credence could've only dreamed of six months prior. The room suddenly felt hotter, and Credence's heart began pounding, his Obscural twisting around in his chest, when Newt didn't turn away and kept looking into his eyes.

"It's nothing." Newt whispered back, oh so humble and ever so pleasant, and soon they were both leaning in and kissing softly, sweetly.

 

Credence had never kissed anyone before, and he awkwardly bumped his nose into Newt's as he leaned forward to press his mouth against Newt's with more courage. Once they parted, Credence asked, breathless, _Can I try that again?_ Newt had laughed, cupped his cheek, and kissed him again.

 

Newt was like the family they never had. Smiling, caring, silly. He and Modesty worked in tandem with the animals, and the day Newt found incredible drawings of his creatures on scrap parchment, Credence sheepishly admitted it was he who had drawn them. Newt's book slowly came together, Credence mapping out detailed drawings of the creatures for the professors edition, and Modesty helping him track the patterns of the creatures that were tougher to wrangle. They had planned to wait a week to tell Modesty of their newfound relationship, but it ended up being Modestly making the connection herself and asking Credence one day while Newt was tending to the baby Graphorn.

 

"Do you love him?" Modesty asked, and Credence knew he'd never lie to her in his life.

 

"Yes, I do," Credence replied, "Or, at least I think I do."

 

Modesty had only said, "Good." Before getting up from her place on the floor, away from the enchanted puzzle she was putting together, to hug Credence tightly. Credence realized right then and there, the suitcase had somehow began to feel just like home, and he knew he never wanted to leave.

 

_Oh, I am hiding, hiding_  
_I am so safely hiding_  
_Hiding till the billows pass me by;_  
_I am hiding, hiding_  
_Oh, sweet safely hiding,_  
_Hiding when the tempests sweep the sky._

_Safely hiding, I am blest_  
_While I sweetly rest,_  
_Oh, what peace and calm assurance_  
_Now abide within!_  
_I am happy in endurance_  
_Since I'm free from sin_

 

On their fourth month together, Newt had asked Credence if he felt ready to get his wand. Credence and Modesty shared a glance, and then soon they all were in Diagon Alley, Credence laughing with Modesty on his shoulders. Newt was walking beside them, reaching up to tickle Modesty and the young girl was beaming, asking Newt question after question about wands and how they're made.

 

In a few years, when Modesty would receive her Hogwarts letter (much to Credence and Newt's delight) she would find her wand after only three tries. Beech wood, Dragon heartstring core, pliant, nine inches.

 

_"Beech wood isn't just for any young witch, you know," Ollivander tells Modesty as she strokes her hand over the smooth finish of her wand. Her blonde hair is cut short, and it hangs in a bob around her chin. The bronze locket around her neck gleams. "It's for intelligent people, wise beyond their years. The wand chooses you, young woman, and it has chosen very well."_

 

Credence went through almost eleven wands before he found his. Ollivander, upon realizing the powerful kickback from each wrong wand he handed the young man, told the three to wait as he went searching.

 

Minutes later, he returned with a beautiful wand, a soft brown with what Credence realized were flecks of gold engraved in it. "Pine wood, Phoenix feather core, rigid, twelve inches." Ollivander told him as he handed Credence the wand. Once Credence held it firmly in his hand, the entire building shook and rumbled before settling down silently. "Ah hah!" Ollivander exclaimed, clapping his hands together loudly.

 

Newt beamed at Credence as he flicked the wand in his hand, and suddenly a candle flew across the room and into his open palm. "Pine, extremely sensitive to non-verbal magic." Ollivander explained to Credence's shocked expression.

 

"Mr. Ollivander, you've truly outdone yourself this time." Newt said happily, walking up to shake the man's hand in thanks. Newt followed Ollivander up to the counter to pay while Credence stayed in the front of the store with his wand, Modesty at his side.

 

Modesty was ecstatic, "Credence," She said, "What will you do now? You must have learned some spells from those books!" Her eyes gleamed, and Credence kneeled down to be at her eye level.

 

Credence flicked his wrist gently, and into his hand a small flower formed. It was white, and it glittered and shined in his palm. Modesty laughed as he placed it in her hair with a smile, and soon after Modesty leaned forward to hug him tightly. Credence hugged back and let out a sigh, rocking them back and forth slightly.

 

"I love you." Credence told her gently.

 

 _Oh, I am hiding, hiding_  
_I am so safely hiding_  
_Hiding till the billows pass me by;_  
_I am hiding, hiding_  
_Oh, sweet safely hiding,_  
_Hiding when the tempests sweep the sky._

 

"I love you, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put a LOT of time into figuring out their wands. For Modesty, "The true match for a beech wand will be, if young, wise beyond his or her years. When properly matched, the beech wand is capable of a subtlety and artistry rarely seen in any other wood, hence its lustrous reputation." and for Credence, "The straight-grained pine wand always chooses an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. The pine wand is one of those that is most sensitive to non-verbal magic." 
> 
> Thank you all SO MUCH for reading, I hope you enjoyed this!


End file.
